


Heartbroken

by geeksthetics



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 06:43:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15382944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geeksthetics/pseuds/geeksthetics
Summary: Digory had never understood the term "heartbroken." Never truly. At least not until the day he found out he had to move out of his childhood home and leave his best friend behind.





	Heartbroken

Digory had never understood the term "heartbroken." Never truly. At least not until the day he found out he had to move out of his childhood home and leave his best friend behind.

Digory had spent so many years living next to Polly, spending at least a few minutes every day together. They were hardly ever separated. Digory had been _really and truly heartbroken_ when he found out that he was to move out of his childhood house, _his home_ , far away from his best friend. He could hardly stand when he’d heard the news from his joyous mother who had pounced on him with the information as he walked through the front door. His cheeks, flushed from having returned from a hardy game of rugby with Polly and a few other neighborhood teens, paled as he processed the news.

“For a few days, you mean.”

“No, forevever!”

His chest tightened, breathing restricted, head dizzied. Swaying, he gently lowered himself onto the small, battered love seat they owned.

“Why? How?”

“Uncle Andrew passed. Your father is returning. He’s a rich man now. With a rich man’s home!”

Misery swept over him. He couldn’t leave. Not to that great home he had heard so much of. He couldn’t leave his home. He couldn’t leave Polly. He stared at his mother. Dumbfounded was an understatement. His mother stared back. She was healthy, happy. Father would be returning from India. They would be a family again. But at the cost of leaving his best friend and their great adventure behind.

“That’s great.” A false smile plastered on his face. He hated lying to his mother. “Wow…This is…wow. I’m speechless.” That was no lie.

Satisfied, his mother scurried out, mumbling about needing to pack up as soon as possible and how they would accommodate his father and hiring some local laborers to transport their belongings to the country. Digory remained on the love seat, stunned.

He eventually snapped out of his reverie. It was hours later as the light seeping in through the open window had begun to dim. He aimlessly wandered out of the house and only realized after arriving to those familiar eroded stone steps that his wandering hadn’t been so aimless.

Laughter peeled through the air as Polly stepped through the door. Her head was turned away from him, shouting out something over her shoulder. Laughter bubbled out of her throat at the response. She shook her head as she chuckled softly, closing the front door behind her. Her mood immediately sobered as she noticed her friend’s somber expression.

Something happened. There was no question about it

“I’m leaving.”

A pause. She sat next to him. Then: “To the big home?”

She had heard about the big home as much as he had. “Yes.” He couldn’t trust himself to say more. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry.

“You’ll be far.”

“Again, yes.”

Another pause. She leaned her head on his shoulder. Then: “Okay.”

Digory’s head swiveled. She didn’t sound or look sad. Did she not care that he, her best friend, will be moving kilometers away from her? Anger and frustration stirred in him. How could she be so flippant about his moving? How could she just forget him, forget _them_ , so suddenly?

But even in his strengthening look of ire and hurt, Polly remained calm as she lifted her head to look at him directly. He looked closer. There was sadness, a deep sadness, well hidden from those that didn’t know her better. But mostly he saw calm. He saw understanding, and a bit of hope.

“It’s okay. The story hasn’t ended yet. We still have some time until we get to happily ever after. Distance doesn’t end friendships, they make them stronger.”

He was dubious, but he trusted Polly, trusted her with his life. She was smarter and more confident than him. He knew he should listen to her.

And so he packed and packed and packed. Until the day he had to leave came.

As the laborers moved box after box out of the house, he sat in the middle of his now-bare bedroom. The drapeless window remained wide open. Across from him, in her own hoouse, also sitting on the floor, Polly smiled wanly. She was surrounded by the familiar contents of her room: opened books strewn across her desk, notes and sketches and hastily-written poems pinned up on her wall, the quilt Mrs. Kirke had made for her several Christmases ago neatly folded on her bed.

They sat there for what must have been hours yet felt like a mere few minutes.

“Digory, honey, we’re leaving.”

Digory stood. Polly remained on the floor. They had said their formal good-byes earlier.

Polly lifted a hand waving slightly at Digory’s retreating back.

He was silent throughout the entire trip. He was silent while his mother and father chattered on and on to him about the many great activities to do out in the country, the tutors they could pay to live with them and help him study to complete his secondary education, the many holidays Polly and her family could spend in their spacious new home. Digory heard almost none of it.

Dutifully following his parents across the great expanse of land that led to their new house, Digory focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He didn’t care about the horses he could ride or the rooms he could explore or the swims he could take in the lake. He only cared that he wasn’t in the home he had always known, the only home he had known.

"Digory, there seems to be a letter here dictated for you. It doesn’t say who it’s from."

How curious. He had just arrived to this house. Who could possibly have sent him a letter?

Breaking the seal, he found a small note and a seed. An apple seed. He knew that seed. He hungrily read over the few words scribbled on the slip of paper.

_thought this was a better way to keep our otherworldly adventure closer to you._

He should have been happy that Polly had thought to do such a kind gesture. But it hurt. He ached. He was far, so far from everything he had shared with her. It was all a memory now. A very distant, very sad memory. He was heartbroken.


End file.
